


Howl

by Lynds



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Credence Barebone, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Percival Graves, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Credence Barebone Lives, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Panic Attacks, Period-Typical Homophobia, Protective Original Percival Graves, Rescue, not conforming to stereotypes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 21:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18019055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynds/pseuds/Lynds
Summary: We will pick up the pieces and share the shards of ourselves with bloody hands, and we will be what we’ve always needed.They find Percy buried in his family home, and permanently injured. They find Credence barely alive in an alley. They find Jacob's memories. Now they're not letting go of each other. And they're not going to let any other children fall through the cracks of the world, magical or not. They are Pack, and Credence is still learning that they're there for him when it all gets too much, and that none of them, especially Percy, think he's weak for being both traumatised and an alpha.





	Howl

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on a bunch of things... a really bad flashback-y day for me, and how my husband made me a nest; a conversation with my Dirk Gently RP group about ABO dynamics and designations; the fact that there's a biker gang that go around protecting abused children; and Tiny_Trashcan's fic [Chicago Teeth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882739/chapters/34465284) which introduced me to the brilliant concept of Beta Graves and how perfect that is! I'm well behind on the story but I wholeheartedly recommend it!
> 
> Please excuse the anachronisms! I wanted to use the concept of rescuing someone from child abuse but I don't think anyone really called it that back then, or even noticed...

Credence smiled down at the young alpha boy and suppressed a howl of rage and horror. The little boy Victor, he couldn’t have been more than eleven years old, smiled back up at him through black eyes and broken teeth, and trotted to keep up with Tina and Credence.

Percy, being the only sensible, level headed beta in their group, had to stay behind and deal with the no-maj police and Macusa, no matter how much Credence knew he wanted to rail and rage.

“Just is what it is,” he told Credence time after time. “Everyone _knows_ betas can keep their temper the best, just like everyone knows an omega would never be able to defend themselves. Just like they _know_ an alpha can’t be the victim.” He shrugged and put out his cigarette and straightened his shoulders, as much as he could now Grindelwald had had his way. “If we can make the system work for us, we do it. You and Tina as the frontmen, scaring the bastards off. Newt, Queenie and Jacob as the hand-wringing home front darlings for the front page. And me in the middle making sure the law works to back us up.”

The pack had formed soon after Tina and Newt found Percy, dug him out of the ground under his own family home. Jacob and Queenie had stumbled on Credence, or what was left of him, in an alleyway, and smuggled him to safety in Newt’s suitcase. It was Percy who’d sat them down together in the candlelit parlour, draped in the dust of generations, and told them about pack law.

As a no-maj, Jacob would have been obliviated. As a magical creature, Credence would have been ‘humanely destroyed’. As part of a pack with four powerful wizards, they were untouchable. It was an old magical law, one even Picquery hadn’t known about, but it was enough.

And now, rather than keep themselves sequestered away from polite society, they roamed, and they saw, and they grew.

“I got into Macusa to help people like you,” Tina once said, not looking at Credence. “And we failed. If we can do it this way, that’s where I’ll be.”

Tina walked up the stairs of the old brownstone, tapped the door with her wand and pushed it open. It led directly onto the Graves estate.

Victor stopped, his mouth gaping open as he stared around him at the vast entrance hall. The weak winter sunlight drifted in through high, dusty windows, and shouts and yells filtered in from the playground outside. “There’s more of us?” he asked, turning to Credence with wide, hopeful eyes.

Credence nodded. “Six boys and four girls now. Two of the girls and one other boy are alphas, like you. Would you like to join them now, or wait until dinner for us to introduce you?”

Victor chewed his lip, his eyes drawn to the window as another whoop cut the air. “I’d like… uh, may I please play a little?”

Credence showed him the way out, and the boy shot off into the group like a bullet from a gun. Credence swallowed and wondered maybe he could sneak off now, get a moment of solitude, curl into himself and howl.

“Credence?”

He turned at Newt’s soft voice. “Yessir?”

Newt stood next to an unknown woman who reeked of alpha, disdain, power, and he wanted to burn, wanted to explode, wanted to wipe her out like he’d wiped out his mother, her sour smell now cloying in his palate. 

Newt smiled sympathetically and met his eye. “I’m sorry to bother you so soon after a mission, but Miss Henley is here to see to the defensive wards, and insists on speaking with an alpha.”

Credence bristled on Newt’s behalf, but Newt just shook his head surreptitiously and backed away. “It’s good to be underestimated, Credence,” he’d told him many times, his wiry muscles bunching under his skin as he lifted heavy bales of food in and out of the suitcase, not bothering with a leviosa. As someone who’d been fighting to escape his shell so long, the idea made Credence irrationally angry.

“Your omega offered to show me the wards, bless him,” smirked Henley. “I’d much rather work with someone whose magic actually lends itself to protection, rather than cooking and babysitting, don’t you agree?”

“It’s this way,” said Credence through his teeth, and led her into the core of the house, and tried not to think of his mother.

The room was stuffy and dusty. Somehow no matter what Percy did it stayed that way. Henley hummed and tutted, performing diagnostic spells with her stiff, solid wand and muttering to herself. Credence took slow breaths, counting in and out as Queenie had taught him, grounding himself in the feel of the ground under his feet and the prickle of dust in his nose rather than another alpha’s powerful assertion of space, her privilege and demand to exist in his space, in their space.

“You set these wards yourself?” she said at last, looking up.

Credence shook his head. “Mr Graves and Miss Tina did together, but Mr Graves decided it would be prudent to call in a professional.”

She nodded, pleased. “He’s the beta, right? I could tell the difference in their magic straight away, tough and solid beta, and then powerful magic with a hint of something almost artistic, that must be your alpha.”

Credence bit back the dry laugh that threatened. The idea that Tina could be anything approaching artistic was ridiculous. Percy, on the other hand…

“I’ll need to walk your perimeter once I’m done,” Henley said, and Credence watched her hungrily as she cast, the obscurus a taste under the air, keeping careful note of everything she did so that maybe he could replicate it next time and they wouldn’t have to call her back.

The fresh air was a welcome reprieve to the weight of dark rooms and power struggles that wanted to press his head down, bare the back of his neck. Credence saw the children running in the garden, playing with paper boats on the old fountain and hopscotch on the paved area. He straightened his spine and showed them how they could be one day. How they could push their past aside and stand tall. He was part of a pack, a defender, and the children he led needed to see him overcome.

“Mister Credence!” As they walked little running footsteps followed, and Credence turned his head to see Morris, Frederick and the new boy, Victor, run up with bright smiles. “What’cha doing, Mister Credence?”

He smiled down at the boys. “Miss Henley’s checking our wards,” he explained. “We want them to be as secure as possible to keep all of us safe.”

Frederick nodded sagely, but Morris frowned. “Will they keep Victor’s people out too? ‘Cause he’s new, will the wards know to look after him too?”

Credence held out a hand to just by the boy’s shoulder, and he closed the distance to snuggle into the touch. “The wards protect all of us,” Credence assured him fiercely. “Anyone under protection of the pack is protected by these wards.”

Morris reached up to squeeze Credence’s wrist as he brushed his fingers through the little alpha’s hair. “That’s tops, Mister Credence. Thank you.”

“Hey, let’s show Victor the maze,” Frederick said as they rounded the corner, and with a wave the trio was off.

“Those kids all part of your little establishment?” Henley asked.

The small semblance of peace Credence had earned by the boys’ presence dissolved into raised hackles and the expectation of judgement. “Yes, ma’am.”

She snorted. “Ain’t two of them alphas? I thought you ran a home for abused kids.”

The obscurus howled under his skin, scenting danger, scenting cruelty and judgement and a curled lip the only warning before a punishment. He straightened his back and felt the pull of scars. “It’s just up here, the weakest spot in the wards,” he said instead.

Credence was a machine ticking over, cogs and wheels with tiny teeth curling under his bones and moving one leg in front of the other, a clockwork curiosity in a sideshow, jerky and dead eyed and desperate for the end. He walked Henley to the door, holding the porcelain shards of his skin together over the mechanism beneath. “Thank you for your help today, Miss Henley,” he said at the door, calm and collected as any stereotypical beta.

“Not a problem,” she said, tucking her thumbs into her overalls. She turned her head as Frederick, Morris and Victor came into view around the great house, shrieking and laughing and children. “You wanna watch them,” she said, jerking her chin towards Frederick and Victor. “Ain’t right for an alpha to be weak like that. Might be some latent homosexual tendencies causing it.”

Credence nodded, his blood red hot and boiling. He might have said goodbye. He might have killed her. He might have watched until she was off the land, the wards closing behind her, he was no longer sure. When he turned and shut the door Queenie was standing behind him, her hands clasped and eyes very wide and sad. Credence nodded at her and walked past, a shell, such as one would fill with munitions and drop on the trenches.

“I’ll send Percy up,” she said softly as he was half way up the stairs. He paused in a step, the delicate webs holding him together seeming to break one by one. He nodded and walked on, but now the tears fell.

His breath was shaking, trembling and shuddering and small and childish and he needed… he needed… 

There was a blanket on Percy’s bed, one they’d added last night during an unexpected cold snap, draping over themselves in the early hours as they lay in their sanctuary. He didn’t feel like he deserved it, couldn’t go to bed at this time, wasn’t worthy, but maybe… maybe he could… he pressed the blanket to his face, inhaling the sweet, crisp smell of Percy, of both of them at peace, as he stumbled on.

In the dressing room there was a chaise longue, and windows with heavy velvet curtains that shifted only slightly under the wind. Credence draped the blanket over his head so that the world reduced itself to a narrow vision of darkness and a warmth to protect his head, his back. He curled himself into the low seat, tugging cushions towards him and stacking them around him, pressing his face and his knees and his curled up hands into the back of the chaise, a little nest of warmth and comfort, and he cried.

“Credence?” said Percy, his voice soft in the darkness, and oh, how Credence wanted to call out, to beg for love and affection from a proven source, but the words stuck in his throat where they’d been trained. 

Even so, Percy found him, and knew him. He knelt beside the chaise with a sad “oh, Credence,” and Credence ached and cried in silence.

“May I touch you?” Percy asked, and Credence nodded so vigorously a whimper was able to escape. Percy wrapped his arms around Credence’s back and pressed his forehead to his shoulder blade. “My poor love,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry, darling. It must have been terrible for you today.”

Credence cried until his body shook. He cried until the sounds escaped, angry and grieved and so in pain. He cried until he couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, until he could cry no more. 

He lay exhausted, his hands barely twitching, his sinuses aching. Percy rubbed his back. “Would you mind very much moving to the bed, love? My knees are—“

“Oh, God, Percy, your knees,” he gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s really not - ah! Yes, a hand please. Thank you.” Percy smiled sheepishly at him and pressed in close, resting his forehead on Credence’s collarbone. He could see the curve of Percy’s cheek as he sighed into the embrace. “Now,” Percy said. “About that nest I’m going to make you.”

Credence blushed and looked down. “That’s really my job,” he protested.

“Who says so?” said Percy mildly, limping into the bedroom ahead of him. “You mean those same people who say Newt can’t possibly have fought in the war, a delicate little omega like him? Those who say Jacob must be a beta, he’s so easy going?” He tugged the pillows into a curve around Credence’s side, added two heavy quilts, looked at the bed critically. “The people who say an alpha can’t be traumatised?” he asked casually, an afterthought, a throwaway comment.

Credence flinched, tugged on the blanket still draped over his head, pulling it lower so he could only see the carpet in front of his feet. 

Percy’s uneven footsteps came closer. He stood without touching Credence, then held his hand out, palm up, just in Credence’s field of vision. “You are a survivor, Credence. What was done to you… what was done to all of these children, was beyond contempt, beyond reproach. You have survived so well, for so long, and now you are learning how to live.”

Credence took his hand and peered up at him. Percy smiled, the lines around his eyes deepening. “You’re learning how to be loved.” Percy tugged him gently, tucking him into the nest, arranging pillows and blankets to the optimum _for him_ , for Credence, and such an act of care made the ache behind Credence’s eyes thicken. 

Finally Percy arranged himself in front of Credence, cupping his cheek and guiding his face up so their eyes met. “I don’t say you’re learning how to love,” Percy said, his voice soft in the warmth of this nest he’d built for him. “Because, Mercy Lewis, Credence, you know how to love. You love so much, you care so much. But you’ve never had people to care for you. And now you do. You have us.”

Credence snuggled closer and closed his eyes as more tears leaked from his lashes, soaking Percy’s shirt where he wrapped his arms around Credence, pulled him snug and stroked his back. 

“You have a pack now, Credence. You’ve got an omega with authority issues - actually, more like three of those. Queenie and Jacob are just better at pretending than Newt. You’ve got an alpha who pretends she doesn’t want to wrap all these babies up in her arms and rock them to sleep, but really, those kids know where to go when they want a good cuddle. And you’ve got a beat-up old beta who’s torn between feeding you up and tearing your abusers down in a rage. And you know what?”

Credence shook his head, still tucked tight under Percy’s chin, his arms around his waist.

“I think I might do both,” he said, kissing Credence’s head. “So I’m meant to be even keeled? So what? I’m also meant to marry a good woman and continue the Graves line.” He shrugged. “You’re the better option.”

The corner of Credence’s lip curled up into a smile, uncontrollably. He turned his face to press kisses into Percy’s chest, almost certainly ruining his shirt further.

“Let them think what they want,” Percy said, his voice softening as he relaxed into the warmth of the nest, of the embrace and the early evening sunlight drizzling in through the high windows. “In this pack, you are who you are. And if that’s vulnerable sometimes, or scared, or hurt, or needing something, you don’t need to hide that. We are all yours.” He kissed him once more on the head. “Me especially,” he admitted.

Credence smiled and drifted in the peace and love of Percy’s arms. We are pack, he thought, and they abandoned us. We will pick up the pieces and share the shards of ourselves with bloody hands, and we will be what we’ve always needed.

We are pack.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! It's been ages since I wrote Credence, I've missed him!
> 
> I also write original stuff too! If you'd like to hear me flail about my characters and stuff please find me on [Wordpress](https://lynhemphillauthor.wordpress.com/)!


End file.
